The Pack of Lies

"You missed another celebration," Alina said, her voice steady but laced with something sharper.

Esme didn't raise her gaze. Picking at the bark with her fingernail, she sat at the base of the sacred oak. "Has anybody noticed?"

"Father did."

"Esme flung a piece of bark into the ground and mumbled, "Of course he did." Her gaze followed the stars that were visible through the branches above as she rested her head back against the rugged trunk. Alina took a step forward, her boots making no sound on the forest floor. "Esme, you can't continue doing this."

"Doing what?" Esme finally looked at her sister, her expression flat. "Existing?"

Alina didn't flinch, but her jaw tightened. "Avoiding everyone. Avoiding your place in the pack."

"Place?" Esme let out a hollow laugh. "What place? The one behind you? The one no one even sees?"

"That's not fair," Alina said, her voice sharper now.

"No," Esme shot back, standing abruptly. "What's not fair is spending your whole life being told you don't matter. That you're not enough."

Alina crossed her arms, her golden eyes steady and unyielding. "No one said you're not enough."

"They didn't have to," Esme replied. She stepped closer, her voice low but trembling. "It's in everything they do. Every time they look at me and see you."

Alina didn't answer right away, but her fingers clenched into fists at her sides. Rather, she looked about the clearing as though seeking a response that the sacred oak was refusing to provide.

"You can't let this eat you alive," Alina said at last. Her voice softened, but there was still steel beneath it. "The pack needs you, whether you believe it or not."

Esme shook her head. "No, Alina. They need you. The chosen twin. The one who will rule."

"And you're the one who will fall?" Alina's voice was quiet now, but her words carried the weight of the prophecy like an anchor between them.

Esme's eyes darkened. "Is that not what is prophesied to happen?"

Alina paused for the first time. She looked down at the ceremonial dagger at her waist, her fingertips brushing its polished hilt.

Her gaze locked with Esme's, firmly.

For a moment, Esme wanted to believe her, to imagine a world where they weren't pitted against each other by a prophecy neither had asked for. But she knew better.

"Go back to the party, Alina," Esme said, her voice tired. "Your pack is waiting."

Alina hesitated, her expression unreadable, before she turned and walked away.

Esme watched her go, the familiar ache in her chest settling like a stone.

The woodland fell silent again, except for the faint brush of leaves rustling in the wind. Esme dropped back to the ground and drew her knees to her chest as she stared at the sacred tree's scarred bark.

She and Alina had discussed this topic previously, and it would not be the last time. The same wall between them, the same tension, the same words. Even though they were identical twins, Esme occasionally questioned whether they had come from completely separate universes.

One twin will rule. One twin will fall.

The prophecy was always there, lingering like a shadow in her mind. It had defined everything-the way their father trained Alina relentlessly, the way the pack adored her, the way Esme was pushed aside, unnoticed and unneeded.

She tried to push those thoughts away by pressing her fingers to her face. Then a low, savage growl echoed across the air from deep in the forest.

Her wolf stirred, uneasy.

Esme rose to her feet, scanning the shadows beyond the clearing. "Alina?" she called, her voice trembling.

There was no answer, only silence. And then-another growl, closer this time.

Her heart raced as the shadows shifted, and a pair of glowing amber eyes emerged from the darkness.

Esme froze. The creature stepped into the moonlight, its fur sleek and black as midnight. A rogue.

Her breath hitched. Rogues didn't stray this far into Crescent Valley, not unless they were desperate-or hunting.

The wolf snarled, its teeth bared, and Esme's pulse thundered in her ears. Her own wolf awoke once more, but it was not a strong one, only a whisper from the periphery of her awareness. Her hands clenched, and despite the churning horror in her gut, she forced herself to stand.

With a voice more composed than she felt, she shouted, "I don't want to fight you." To begin with, the rogue didn't respond verbally. It lunged, faster than Esme expected, and she barely managed to dodge.

As the wolf's claws swept through the air where she had been standing, she staggered backward, banging her shoulder against the oak tree. Her veins flooded with adrenaline. Her thoughts were racing as she stumbled to her feet. Her instinct told her to run, but her legs felt like they were stuck to the earth. Esme was prepared as the rogue lunged once more. With a last-minute sidestep, she grabbed a falling limb and swung it as hard as she could. The wolf yelled and staggered back when the wood hit its side. There was silence for a while. The rogue circled her, its body tense and coiling like a spring, its amber eyes flashing with rage. Esme's inner wolf let out a feeble snarl, pleading with her to move, but she was unable to do so.

She'd never been able to shift fully, not like Alina or the others.

The rogue growled again, preparing to attack-and then, out of nowhere, another figure burst into the clearing.

He moved like a shadow, faster than Esme could track. The newcomer smashed into the rogue, bringing them both plummeting to the ground before the rogue could respond. Esme blinked as the fight progressed, her breath hitching.

The stranger was a man, his movements fluid and deadly. With a precise strike of his fists and claws, the rogue was soon fleeing, its snarls fading as it vanished into the forest. The man straightened, breathing heavily as his chest rose and fell. His clothing were ripped, the fabric stained with blood, and his dark hair fell into his eyes. With her instincts telling her to run, Esme took a wobbly step back. With a harsh voice, she said, "Who are you?" His eyes were piercing as he turned to face her. His eyes were a stormy gray, filled with something Esme couldn't quite put her finger on, rather than amber like the rogue's.

"Your savior, apparently," he said, his voice deep and rough-edged.

Esme frowned, her fear replaced by anger. "I did not call for yours or anyone's help."

"No, you did not" he said, stepping closer, "but I sensed you needed it."

Esme's wolf stirred again, stronger this time, and she clenched her fists. "What do you want?"

With his blank expression, the man studies her for a moment. "To warn you."

"Warn me?"

"Your pack is in danger," he said. "And so are you."

Esme narrowed her eyes. "You're a rogue."

He smirked, but there was no humor in it. "Not all rogues are your enemy. Some of us know things you don't. Things you need to know."

"Like what?"

He hesitated, his gaze flicking to the sacred oak behind her. "The prophecy. It's not what you think."

Esme now was anxious, with her heart skipping beats. "What are you talking about?"

He took another step closer, his voice lowering. "Ask your father. Ask him why he's so afraid of you."

Before Esme could respond, he turned and disappeared into the forest, his movements silent and swift.

Esme stood there, her mind racing. The rogue. The stranger. The prophecy. Her father.

Nothing made sense.

Her wolf was aroused again, and this time, it felt stronger. Fiercer.

For the first time since she heard of it, Esme doubted the prophecy. She felt there was more to it that she had been told, and she was ready to uncover the truth.

Esme couldn't sleep.

She laid in her small room, staring at the wooden ceiling with the stranger's words ringing in her head. "Ask your father, ask him why he is so afraid of you"

Her father had never shown fear-not to her, not to anyone.

He is a man of strength and control, the Alpha of the Crescent Valley Pack.

But doubt crept into her as Esme thought about the years of being ignored and of feeling like and outsider in her own family, her own pack.

She gave a heavy sigh, rolling left and right on her side. There were shadows cast by moonlight streaming through the window. Outside, the pack was still chanting victory songs and celebrating Alina's latest feat in training. "They always celebrate her", Esme mumbled to herself.

The pain her in chest was back, Esme squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block the pain. She tried to let it go, she tried to stop caring, but a strange seed has been planted in her by the stranger's words - Hope.

Her wolf continued stirring, it had been louder and stronger since that event in the woods, as if it woke up from a long slumber. Esme brushed her hair out of her face as she made herself get up.

Her wolf stirred restlessly.

Will I just keep sitting here?

She swiftly swung her legs over the bed and arose. She could hear faint cheering voices from the main hall outside as the entire house was quiet. She was sure her father would not be at the hall for long. He hated noise.

This was her chance.

Putting on her almost worn out boots, Esme quietly walked to her door, gently opening it to avoid creaky hinge. She got into the hallway, trying to be as quiet as possible while walking on the wooden floor.

The way to her father's study was familiar to her, although she rarely visits there, as she had no reason to do. The walls had old tapestries and family portraits, bearing the faces of their ancestors staring down at her with blank expressions.

She trembled as she was about to open the door to the study. She hesitated, pressed her ear to the wood to listen to any sound coming from inside, but she heard nothing.

She slowly and gently opened the door and made her way in.

The study smelled of leather and pine, just as she remembered. Shelves lined the walls, filled with books about pack law, history, and strategies for war. The desk at the center was cluttered with papers and maps, but Esme's attention was drawn to the small locked cabinet behind it.

If there are answers, they're in there.

She quickly crossed the room, her heart beating as fast as it could. Esme had learned a few tricks over time, so picking and opening the sturdy lock was not going to be hard for her. She knelt in front of the cabinet.

As she worked the pin In the lock, she muttered, "come on", it was taking longer than she expected, but finally, she heard the soft click.

As she opened the cabinet, her breath grew louder as she saw what lay inside.

There was a pile of letter, knotted with a faded ribbon, sitting on top a leather-bound journal.

Beneath them, an ornate box glimmered faintly in the moonlight. It was old, the carvings on its surface intricate and strange.

Esme reached for the journal first. The leather was worn, the edges of the pages frayed. She flipped it open, her eyes scanning the handwritten entries.

Most of it was mundane-notes about pack meetings, alliances, and rivalries. But as she turned the pages, something caught her eye.

"It's a blessing that Esme's wolf remains quiet, though she does not know it. If her wolf fully awakens, there will be dire consequences, not just for her, but for all of us"

Her breath hitched. The entry was dated years ago, written in her father's firm, slanted handwriting.

Why would her wolf awakening be dangerous?

She flipped through more pages, her pulse racing. Another entry stood out:

"The prophecy's true meaning is hidden, even from Alina. Esme must never know the full truth. She cannot be allowed to rise."

Esme's hands trembled as she closed the journal. Her father did fear her-but why?

She set the journal aside and reached for the box. It was heavier than it looked, and a faint hum seemed to vibrate through her fingers as she held it.

Gently, she opened the lid.

In the box was a small crystal, which was glowing faintly with a sort of silvery light. It was like a heartbeat, pulsing softly. Esme looked at it with amazement, as warmth spread from her hand to her arm.

Suddenly, her wolf sprung forward, stranger than ever, she felt a sharp pain shot through her head. Gasping, and dropping the box, she fell to her knees.

She saw flashes of images, visions of a great battle, fire and blood. She saw a wolf with eyes like hers, standing alone against a sea of shadows.

She firmly held her head, the pain being unbearable. The pain stopped suddenly, just as it started.

The room was silent again, but Esme felt different. Stronger.

Her eyes darted to the door as a sound broke the silence-a faint creak of footsteps in the hallway.

Someone was coming.

Esme scrambled to her feet, shoving the journal and the box back into the cabinet. She locked it quickly and moved to the window, pushing it open. The cool night air hit her face as she climbed onto the sill.

As soon as she dropped to the ground outside, the door to the study opened.

With fierce authority, her father roared, "who's there?"

Esme held herself against the wall underneath the window, her heart racing. She could hear her father moving around the room, with heavy footsteps.

Finally, the sound of the door closing reached her ears, and she let out a shaky breath.

She needed answers, but not here. Not now.

The forest called to her, its shadows comforting in a way the pack house never was.

With the faint glow of the crystal still burning in her mind, Esme turned and disappeared into the trees.

With sounds coming from the different angles, the forest was alive. Leaves rustling, owl hooting afar off, stream nearby trickling. Esme moved quickly with her wolf guiding her.

She remembered the words of the stranger again, that her pack was in danger and the prophecy was not what she thought.

And now, after what she'd seen in her father's journal, Esme knew he was right.

Her steps faltered as a figure appeared ahead, leaning casually against a tree.

"You're either brave or reckless," the stranger said, his voice low and rough. "Coming out here alone."

Esme's wolf growled softly, but she ignored it. "You knew, didn't you? About my wolf. About the prophecy."

The stranger bent his head a bit, hee glinted his eyes in the moonlight. "I know a lot of things, Esme."

Her breath caught. "How do you know my name?"

"I've been watching you," he admitted, his tone unapologetic. "Waiting for the right moment."

"For what?"

"To see if you're worth saving."

Esme's fists clenched. "I don't need saving."

He smirked without humor. "That's what they all say, right before they realize they're wrong."

"What do you want from me?"

"Not from you," he said, stepping closer. "For you. The truth. The power they've been hiding."

Esme's wolf stirred again, stronger this time, and she took a step back. "Why should I trust you?"

"Well, you do not have to", he said. "But you should know that it is not only your sister that has been lying to you".

Her heart skipped a beat. "What are you talking about?"

"Your father," he said simply. "Ask him why he chose Alina over you. Ask him what he saw in you that made him afraid."

Esme opened her mouth to respond, but a sudden roar echoed through the forest, cutting her off.

The stranger's expression darkened. "They're here."

"Who?"

"Rogues," he said, his voice grim. "A lot of them."

Esme's wolf growled, and this time, she didn't try to silence it.

The shadows around them shifted as glowing eyes emerged from the darkness.

Esme's breath caught as at least a dozen wolves stepped into the clearing, their teeth bared and their growls rumbling like thunder.

The stranger moved to stand beside her, his body tense.

"Ready to see if you're worth saving?" he asked, his tone laced with challenge.

Esme swallowed hard, her wolf rising to the surface. "I guess we'll find out."

And then the rogues attacked.

The rogues charged forward, filling the forest with explosions of chaos, their growls reverberating.

Esme became agitated, but it was not just with fear this time, she felt something more primal. With a surge of strength she had not felt before, her wolf roared.

Beside her, the stranger shifted in an instant, his body rippling and reshaping into a massive black wolf.

He charged ahead, clashing into the nearest wolf in a battle of teeth and claws.

Esme was breathing fast, she clenched her fists. There was no time to think or doubt. A rogue surged towards her, she moved to the side and grabbed a sturdy branch from the ground and with all her strength, she swung, striking the wolf by its side.

The rogue yelped but didn't retreat. It turned, snarling, its glowing eyes locked on her.

"Shift, Esme!" the stranger's voice rang in her mind, even in his wolf form.

"I can't!" she shouted, panic threading her voice.

The rogue lunged again, and this time, Esme's instincts took over. She ducked low, rolling to the side and slamming the branch against its legs. The wolf stumbled, and she took the chance to scramble to her feet.

More rogues closed in, their growls echoing like thunder. The stranger was holding his own, his black wolf tearing through their ranks with precision and ferocity. But they were outnumbered.

Esme's wolf still stirring, was now louder and stronger than ever. She felt a heat wave brushed through her, her muscles tightened and her sense sharpening.

A rogue came at her from behind, and without thinking, Esme spun around, with a faint silvery glow stemming from her hands. She swung her arm instinctively, throwing the rogue backwards as if it was hit by an unknown force.

The wolf whimpered, crashing into a tree before scrambling away.

Esme stared at her hands in shock. What just happened?

The stranger, mid-fight, growled through their mental link, "That's not normal."

Esme didn't have time to process his words. Another rogue charged her, but this time, she felt more confident. She dodged its attack, her movements fluid and precise. Her wolf howled within her, urging her on.

As the last rogue retreated into the shadows, limping and snarling, the forest grew eerily quiet.

The black wolf shifted back into the stranger, his chest heaving. His piercing gray eyes locked on Esme. "Docnot be surprised by your show of power, you have more power yet to be unclocked," he said, his voice low and steady.

Esme was in disbelief, still staring at her hands. "What was that? What did I just do?"

The stranger tilted his head, studying her.

"Your father is in the best position to answer that question"

Her chest tightened. Her father. The journal. The cryptic warnings.

"Why are you helping me?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.

With his back leaned against a tree, giving a blank expression, he said, "You are the only one who can save your pack from what is coming."

Esme became a bit angry. "You are not making any sense."

He gave a sigh, running his hand through his rough hair. "The truth is, the prophecy is about you, and not about your twin, Alina."

Her stomach twisted. "That's not possible. The prophecy said one twin would rule, and one would fall. Alina is the chosen one."

"Is she?" he asked, his voice sharp. "Or is that just what your father wanted you to believe?"

Esme's mind raced. Her father's journal had hinted at secrets, at fears he hadn't shared. But could it really be true? Could the prophecy have been about her all along?

She was about to respond when the stranger's head snapped up, tensions arising in his body.

"What is it?" Esme asked, her heart skipping a beat.

"We're not alone," he muttered.

The forest became quiet at that instant, and from the shadows, a new figure emerged.

It was Alina.

She had a stiff stance and a dominant look, and her golden eyes were dimly illuminated by the moon. The moonlight gave forth a subtle shine from her golden eyes.

"What are you doing out here, Esme?" Alina demanded, her voice cold. Her gaze flicked to the stranger, and her expression darkened. "And who is this?"

Esme's throat tightened. "Alina, I-"

"You shouldn't be here," Alina interrupted, stepping closer. "Father has been searching for you. Are you aware of what you've done?"

Esme's chest tightened. "What I've done? Alina, there's something you need to know-"

"What I need," Alina snapped, "is for you to stop sneaking around and putting the pack in danger."

Esme's wolf growled, the sound low and defiant.

"Father is the one keeping secrets, not me Alina."

Alina froze, her golden eyes narrowing. "What are you talking about?"

Esme took a shaky breath, her voice steady. "The prophecy. The truth about my wolf. Father's been lying to us."

For a moment, Alina's expression wavered. "You do not know what you are talking about"

"You think?" Esme barked, "You should go ahead and ask him, ask him why he is so afraid".

Alina opened her mouth to respond, but the stranger cut in.

"You two can argue later," he said, his tone sharp. "Right now, we need to move. The rogues will be back, and they won't be alone."

Alina glared at him. "And why should we trust you?"

"I am not asking you to," he said with a calm voice. "But for you to survive what is coming, you will have to listen."

Alina hesitated, her gaze shifting between Esme and the stranger. Finally, she nodded stiffly. "Fine. But this isn't over, Esme."

Esme clenched her fists, her wolf stirring again. "It never is."

Tension between them was strong and unforgiving as they turned toward the forest.

Esme felt as though they were being watched as they moved more into the darkness. A voice reverberated through the trees as they approached the edge of the clearing.

"You cannot avoid the truth forever."

The new figure, a man with eyes as black as the darkness itself and a ruthless smile that sent shivers down Esme's spine, stepped into the moonlight and sent chills down her spine.

With a tone full of hate, he replied, "Your fate is waiting for you, little wolf." "And there is no place for hiding."